Eggs in a basket
mystery.
More real than I pretend.
And “variety is the spice of life”
is what I say when I put myself in
your practical black shoes
and look back at me.
Not now but later.
I speak of the gimmick
and the honeymoon period
but what I really mean is
when will you get tired of me
like he did.
When will you look at what used to be cute
and sigh with exasperation
instead of wonder.
When does take your time
become hurry up
And
go have fun
become stay right here
And
I’ll cook dinner
become
do you know how to do anything?
You laugh and say never
But deep down what I know is
That it changes.
Quirk becomes irk
And we will all get stuck here.